


it tastes like warm honey

by chcrrvs



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, literally ann if you squint, no names mentioned, vent - Freeform, vent drabble projecting onto ann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 10:56:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21474868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chcrrvs/pseuds/chcrrvs
Summary: i will always think about youthat's why i'm calling you backon my way through
Kudos: 2





	it tastes like warm honey

An unsent text to a person who stopped responding- can’t get too close. Unclosed tabs of a night spent not alone, unclosed tabs of the isolated ones. A forgotten playlist of music made by somebody who doesn’t matter anymore. Friends gone and hearts broken and people lost and everything, anything, _too much_. Too many plushies and too many blankets and too much clothing and too many empty or half-empty drinks and too much stuff everywhere all the time. It was too much. Overflowing trash can and empty inbox. Texts unresponded and texts unsent and texts never received. Friends gone. Friends gone. Family gone. People gone, everywhere, anywhere. All over the world. In hearts. Hearts stolen and broken and shoved back into place in heaving chests, leaving cuts and bruises. Haphazard and uncaring. Too much of everything and yet nothing at all, too little, there’s nothing, nobody, no place. There’s no place like home. There’s no home. Home is where the heart is. The heart’s in the imagination, the place filled with friends and family and people who care, people who are _there_. Heart is where the home is. Home is a tight chest, unable to breathe, unable to feel (hurt). Forgotten music plays. Unlistened music- would it have made a difference had it been played? Does it really matter? It’s just the attention. Home is where the heart is the heart is the attention never feel at home without attention. So, so, so, so, _so_ much attention and admiration and yet- nothing. Empty. Not where it matters. Never where it matters. Where does it matter? When? When will it ever be enough? Enough to fill the void- the pit in the chest? Was the heart ever returned? Did it fall out along the way? Why is there a hole, what changed and when did it appear? Three hundred and six empty, vague words. More. Too much or too little in the chest, something is happening, something changed along the way, something different. What? Something gone or something new or both or nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> title: warm honey, willow  
description: souk eye, gorillaz


End file.
